


First and Last and Always

by nangka



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, First Kiss, Flowers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-08
Updated: 2014-09-08
Packaged: 2018-02-16 11:24:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2267922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nangka/pseuds/nangka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She leaves flowers for a father whose son she slayed a year ago.</p>
            </blockquote>





	First and Last and Always

"There are just a few more." She says to him, picking the flowers that are nestled between the rib cage of a mammoth. Seeing the bones nestled, in same cases entwined, with plants and flowers, there's a macabre beauty and message to it.

He doesn't say anything, knowing it's just more than just a few more. There looks to be well over a dozen more flowers to be picked, but he isn't helping her. He's not entirely sure why she's picking them when she could easily have bought them at any alchemist or even a flower shop. Maybe she does contrast him, enjoying these mundane things than he ever did. Back when he first walked the Tamriel, he was much to busy and occupied. The dragon blood in him drove him to become powerful, and so he did.

He did not pick flowers -- flowers were picked and laid at his feet and at his temple back then.

"Here, hold these." She basically forces upon him a huge bouquet of dragon's tongue flowers. He doesn't resist, but his body language shows he's not the most willing servant.

"You know," she says to him again, this time, her eyes look mischievous and her lips curled into a subtle smirk. "Holding a bouquet like that, you look like quite the gentleman."

He's not oblivious. She's been saying those sort of comments a lot more lately. He hasn't acted on it, but he hasn't explicitly told her to stop. Instead, he's been just letting most of them slide, not reacting. After all, if it's teasing, a lack of a response would eventually cause her to stop. Yet she hasn't, and instead, these comments have gotten more common.

"Did you pick these flowers up as an errand for the College? Even as an Arch-Mage, they still send you on petty errands any student could've easily accomplished." He watches her facial expression change to something much more somber.

She shakes her head. "No, we're going to pay our respects to a father of a son I slayed a year ago."

He can tell it's something personal to her, not just by her body language, but her vague words. She hasn't been this cautious and vague about her intentions and feelings since they initially left Apocrypha to Tamriel. It could be a lie, a cover up, but they promised (more like she did) not to lie to each other anymore, to he honest and trust each other. No, she wouldn't lie to him regarding something like flowers, but he's not going to press it further.

"Then where are we off to?" He doesn't follow her, walking beside her. There was a time where he would watch her from behind, and there was also a time where he walked a head of her. Now he walks beside her, and it seems to be the most practical.

"It's not far from here, just a little bit south." She doesn't look as somber as before. "Let's try not to annoy the giant living here too much." He shakes his head and she laughs once.

The conversation as they walk south is quieter than usual. He wouldn't describe himself as talkative, but she would describe him as such. There are some subjects, no, many he has a lot of knowledge about. She's always eager to listen and learn, but her use of the knowledge and skills he's passed onto is different. Even her treatment of knowledge and power, it's so contrasting. Maybe that's why she's the last dragonborn, and well, he's the one barely anyone remembers. There are different side of the same coin, and he could've easily left her and gone on his own months ago. Yet here they are, together, and in control of their own destinies this time.

She stops walking, and that's when he realizes what this place is. Now it all makes sense, and he should have peiced it together much sooner. Yet how many sons has she killed? He doesn't even know, but it's more than just this particular father's.

"It's been a year since I slayed Alduin, saved Skyrim and all of Tamriel." They both walk closer to the shrine of Akotash, her somber like mood returning. There are already many offerings there -- gold, jewelry, even some dragon bones.

"May I have the bouquet?" He notices her shift to a much more formal tone, but he's not sure why. Is it respect towards the gods? She's not the deeply religious type, but it's in their blood to be connected to Akotash. He offers her the bouquet, and a smile returns to her face.

"Maybe next time you offer me flowers, it won't be for an offering for a god." He expects to see a smile, but the heavier atmosphere is probably restraining her from doing so. "Miraak, would you mind..." It looks like she's searching for the words, a polite way to say it, but he knows.

"Spend time alone with Akotash, I have neither time nor patience for gods." He doesn't wait to see her reaction as he walks away.

* * *

 

They, more like the Dragonborn, insists they stay at Kynesgrove. There's a small inn there, but Miraak doesn't mingle with the other people inside. He slips out of the inn when the Dragonborn is distracted by a group of people who want to hear the story on how she defeated Alduin one year ago.

It's dark, but he casts a simple spell to see the surrounding area. He notices an abundant amount of the dragon's tongue flowers again, and then he remembers her words. He bends down, picking a few of them up. He'll use them for alchemy he tells himself, it's a good with fire resistance.

When he heads inside again, the inn is much quieter this time. It seems the drunkards have been kicked out, the bard is on break, and most guests are in their rooms. Her room is next to his, so he has to pass hers, but he doesn't pass hers. Instead, he looks at the door, seeing that it's slightly open. He watches her briefly, seeing she's reading some book in a chair. He stops watching her when she closes the book, setting it aside. He then knocks on the door, entering the room formally.

"You should have kept a few of the flowers for yourself." He offers the flowers to her, and she genuinely looks surprised. She takes the flowers from him, closing her eyes and bringing them to her nose.

"Thank you, Miraak, they're lovely." She opens her eyes, getting up from her chair. "It was very thoughtful of you." She moves closer to them, and their height difference starts to become evident.

She doesn't seem focused on the flowers anymore, setting them on top of the book she was reading earlier. Instead, she's much more focused on him. She places to fingers on his mask, looking like she wants to ask him something. She usually just tells him to do something, but this situation is becoming increasingly stifling, possibly even awkward.

"Can I take off your mask?" He doesn't take off his mask often, but after spending months together, he's sure she's seen his face more than just a handful of times. She doesn't wait for his reply, starting to take it off, permission or not. He doesn't shift uncomfortably or stop her, which he might have done in the past, but not now.

"Why did you ask if you weren't going to wait for a reply? Yet that is how you are, always asking but doing what you want anyway."

"We both do that. It must be a dragonborn thing." She sets his mask down near the flower and the book.

"Perhaps. We do what we want, which usually means getting what we want no matter what the cost." He knows that well, and he's well aware he's a tale of caution to her about such a driving force.

"Well, you could've gotten this much sooner." He doesn't have much time to think about what 'this' means before she speaks again. "Or maybe it's my fault. I act and shape my own destiny now, so I should act now instead of waiting." She tilts her head up, tugs at his robes to pull him down, and kisses him.

He's not extremely surprised or dumbfounded by the kiss, knowing she has feelings for him. He has feelings for her, strong ones, but never acted on them (at least that's what he tells himself). In Apocrypha, he wanted, no, _needed_ , her in a different manner. He didn't hold back or hesitate, needing to devour her entire being to make him stronger. This time he wants her for more than just power, and while he hasn't hesitated, he hasn't seized it up and taken control of the situation. That's not something common for him, but it seems the Dragonborn has decided to change both of their destinies.

Now he has to decide if he's going to reciprocate. He could think about it too long, making the kiss awkward, but he doesn't. He kisses her back, holding onto her shoulders as he does so.

First and last and always.


End file.
